


Life is a Dream

by collatorsden_archivist



Category: Ashes to Ashes, Life on Mars & Related Fandoms, Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, PG-13 - Blue Cortina, Time Period: 1973-1981 (Life on Mars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-06
Updated: 2008-04-06
Packaged: 2019-01-20 16:49:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12437322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collatorsden_archivist/pseuds/collatorsden_archivist
Summary: Sam and Gene get drunk.





	Life is a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Janni, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [the Collators' Den](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Collators%27_Den), which was moved to the AO3 to ensure access and longevity for the fanworks. I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the Collators' Den collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/collatorsden/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Hopeless fluff, written for [challenge](http://community.livejournal.com/smallfandomfest/), the prompt was "Sam/Gene, life is a dream". And I do mean fluff; I promise there's no nasties hidden in this one.

"You're pissed." Gene sat back on the bench, stretching his legs out for a moment and enjoying the relative solitude of a small park at night.

 

 

"Yeah, I am," Sam agreed and took another pull of the whisky bottle, shivering slightly in the cold night air. "You know, Guv, you're awfully cute when I'm pissed."

 

 

"Are you coming onto me, DI Tyler?"

 

 

"Yeah, I am, DCI Hunt," he said, passing the bottle.

 

 

Gene sniffed and took a long drink. "I always knew you were a bloody fairy."

 

 

"Am not. Am desperate. I've not had a shag in ages. At this point in time, with that much whisky inside me," Sam indicated to the bottle, "I'd come on to anything with a pulse."

 

 

"Huh, make a guy feel special, why don't you," groused Gene.

 

 

"Sam shrugged. "S'truth." He squinted into the distance, first with both eyes, then closing each eye in succession. He shook his head slowly, as if to remove the blur. "You know," he said, completely changing the subject, "This is my dream."

 

 

"Yeah, I know. I remember you telling me once or twice."

 

 

"S'at means that my whole life is a dream."

 

 

"Isn't everyone's?" muttered Gene, morosely.

 

 

"Yes." Sam nodded. "Mine." He gestured broadly, almost hitting the bottle out of Gene's hand. He translated the gesture into retrieving the bottle and gave a forlorn squint at the level. "You know, I think I've another of these back at the flat."

 

 

Gene clapped Sam on the shoulder and stood up, rather unsteadily. "Why didn't you say so, Gladys? We could've been in the warm hours ago."

 

 

"You said you wanted some fresh air."

 

 

"No, I said you needed some fresh air. There's a difference."

 

 

Sam nodded, attempting to pick himself up off the bench and missing by a not inconsiderable margin. Gene held out a helping hand, pulling Sam up in one swift move. Sam stood swaying for a second then glanced up at Gene.

 

 

Gene gave an expansive gesture. "Lead on."

 

 

"It's 'Lay on', actually."

 

 

"What is?"

 

 

"The quote. Lay on, Macduff."

 

 

"It's lead on, Dorothy. I wasn't quoting Shakespeare."

 

 

"Oh." But Sam smiled slightly. "I think it's this way."

 

 

They walked in silence for a while, swaying gently, before Sam started speaking again. "You know, this is my dream. Therefore anything I want to happen in it will."

 

 

"Really?"

 

 

"Yeah. Like if I decided that I really, really wanted to kiss you, you wouldn't be adverse to the suggestion and therefore I could."

 

 

Gene thought about it for a moment, not quite willing to admit that at this point in the proceedings, he wasn't that adverse to the suggestion. But being slightly more sober than Sam, he wasn't willing to experiment.

 

 

"Dreams don't work like that," he finally said. "Dreams have their own logic. You'd start by kissing me and then you'd end up slipping tongue to a donkey or a haddock or something."

 

 

"I wouldn't mind slipping it to an ass," Sam muttered under his breath, then carried on a bit louder, rather hoping Gene had missed that comment. "S'wouldn't matter. At least I'd get a decent snog."

 

 

Gene stopped and stared at his DI, horrified. "Are you telling me you'd rather kiss a fish?"

 

 

Sam stared back in serious silence for a moment, then burst in to gales of laughter. "You're jealous! I can't believe it!" he wiped his eyes. "You actually _do_ want to kiss me!"

 

 

"S'not that. I'm just wary of any madman who professes to wanting to snog a fish."

 

 

Sam unlocked the front door, gesturing to Gene to follow him inside and up the stairs. "Ah, I think the great Gene Hunt is telling porky pies," he crooned as they reached the door of the flat.

 

 

"And why would you think that?"

 

 

Sam turned the key in the lock, pushed open the door and stepped inside. "Oh, I know that. I know that very much." 

 

 

He grinned back at Gene who swallowed and pushed his way inside the flat. "Where did you say that whisky was?"

 

 

"I dreamt it was under the sink, so under the sink it is."

 

 

Gene shook his head, exasperated, and went and looked in the cupboard under the sink. Sure enough, a full bottle of whisky was tucked at the back. He grabbed a couple of mugs off the draining board and carried it back into the main room.

 

 

Sam was lying spread-eagled on the bed. Gene thought at first he had passed out, but as he heard the clink of a bottle hitting the top of a mug, Sam opened his eyes and sat up, holding out his hand for the drink. Gene reluctantly gave him one of the mugs and poured a more generous measure into the second for himself.

 

 

"Do you want to know why I knew that?"

 

 

"What, that the whisky was in the cupboard? It's your flat, Sam."

 

 

"No, not that. That you want to kiss me."

 

 

Gene shook his head, imperceptibly. "Can we get off this subject and talk about birds?"

 

 

"It's because I dreamt it. And if I dreamt it, I live it. Because life is but a dream." Sam sang the last bit, rather off-key, and giggled.

 

 

Gene sighed and stood up, reaching over and grabbing the mug out of his hand. Sam held onto it, and the effort caused the whisky to spill onto Gene's hand, the evaporating alcohol immediately making it cooler. Sam stared and bent his head forward slightly, licking at the whisky.

 

 

Gene's eyes widened and he snatched his hand away. "You, Tyler, are pissed. You don't know what you're saying and, if you remember this conversation tomorrow morning, you're severely going to regret it.

 

 

"Am not."

 

 

"Am too."

 

 

"Am not."

 

 

"Fine. You're not going to regret it, but I will. So belt up, will ya." He sat down heavily in the armchair and drained the mug he'd snatched off Sam, before continuing with his own.

 

 

"I'll shut up if you'll snog me."

 

 

"No."

 

 

"I can't talk if you're snogging me."

 

 

"No."

 

 

"Can't talk if I'm sucking your cock either."

 

 

Gene choked. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that, Tyler. Just shut up."

 

 

"Only if you snog me."

 

 

Gene rolled his eyes and stood up again. "Anything for a moment's peace," he muttered and, bending down, brought his lips roughly against Sam's."

 

 

Sam, surprised, didn't react and Gene started to pull away. "Ha, seems you're not so keen on it…"

 

 

But Sam cut him off, wrapping an arm around Gene's neck and pulling him back down. He opened his mouth, and Gene's lips clashed painfully with Sam's teeth. He jerked back slightly and Sam pulled again, this time overbalancing Gene and pulling him on top of him. 

 

 

The mug of whisky went flying, but Gene didn't care as Sam licked his lips and groaned. They were close, very close, both Sam's arms wrapped round Gene's neck, their mouths desperately searching out the intimate secrets of the other. The full length of their bodies were touching and Gene realised that certain portions of both their anatomies were becoming interested.

 

 

It was wild, it was wet, it was passionate. It was also over rather quickly as Sam suddenly relaxed his hold on Gene and stopped his rather frantic kissing. Gene pulled back to see what was wrong and realised that Sam had passed out.

 

 

"Bloody typical, Tyler. Wind me up then pass out. Pass out, moreover, on the only decent bit of furniture in the place." Gene fumed for a few minutes more, then crammed himself into the armchair along with the bottle of whisky. If life really was a dream, then he was going to need a lot more help to oil the springs.

 

 

_fin_


End file.
